In Hell
by lycanus1
Summary: As Tristan's life hangs in the balance, Vanora has to be Dagonet's rock to stop him falling apart ...


**Disclaimer:** Everything and anyone recognizable _still_ belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer & Touchstone Pictures - more's the pity ...

**A/N:** Ok, I may as well 'fess up that I've been tinkering/recycling some old/deleted chapters again ... and if I'm honest, I just love this trio way too much to let this one collect dust ...

**Warning:** _Contains fairly strong language. Slightly AU due to the timeline being abused and tinkered with. All_ _of our beloved knights are still alive and kicking ..._

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

_**In Hell ...**_

Gnawing nervously on her lower lip, Vanora rapped sharply at the door. Not bothering to wait for a response, she braced herself for what she was about to witness and slipped quietly into the room.

The first person she noticed was Dagonet. The tall Healer had drawn a chair next to the bed and sat with his back to the door, effectively blocking the view of the bed and its occupant from whoever entered the chamber. He flinched as he heard the door close, yet didn't bother to look over his broad shoulder to see who stood behind him.

"Get out !" he snarled softly. "Just get the fuck out 'n' leave us alone- " There was a hint of bitterness cloaked beneath the intense pain that was clearly detected in his husky voice.

Vanora cautiously approached the bed and tentatively reached out to lightly rest her hand on his shoulder.

"It's only me, Dag ... How is he ?" She turned her attention to Tristan and bit her lip as she studied him. The lithe Aorsi looked as if he were sleeping, but the mere sight of those dark tattooed stripes on his cheeks, so vivid against the deathly pallor of his skin belied that fact. As did the clean dressing which covered his left pectoral muscle and the gash of vivid scarlet on his right temple.

Not once did the Roxolani take his eyes off the prone, comatose man who lay on the fur-covered bed. He gave a slight shrug and sniffed.

"He's as you see him. Been this way since we brought him back ... 'n' the longer he stays like this, the less chance he has of coming 'round. 'N' ... 'N' that scares the fucking shit out of me, Van ... I can't bloody lose him. He's my world ..." Dagonet reached out and tenderly swept a stray dark lock of hair away from the Scout's eyes and murmured softly, "I _can't_ lose him ... I just can't ..."

Hearing his voice crack, Vanora moved closer to Dagonet and was slightly taken aback when the titan abruptly turned in his chair and wrapped his arms around her slender waist. She felt a tremor rack his powerful frame and he began to tremble violently. Biting down on her lip once more, Vanora silently slipped her arms around him and held him close, comforting him the only way she knew how. As she gently rubbed his back, she became suddenly aware of the dampness which seeped through the bodice of her dress and her hand suddenly froze.

"Dag ?"

The Healer carefully pulled away from her and wearily dragged a large, beautifully shaped hand down his face before hesitantly meeting her gaze. Vanora stifled a shocked gasp. Dagonet looked as if he'd been to hell and back. His ruggedly attractive countenance was haggard and drawn; the vicious scar which trailed down the left side of his face stood out prominently against the paleness of his skin; kindly silver eyes were red-rimmed and wet, turbulent with panic and worry. In all the years she'd known him, she had never seen him so distraught and completely helpless. Dagonet was at a total loss and looked absolutely shattered.

"I'm alright, lass ... I swear I am ... You shouldn't be here. Should be with your man. Bors needs you, Van ..."

She slowly shook her head in denial. "No, you're not alright, Dag. Far from it. I know you, cousin ... You think more of others than you do of yourself 'n' I know you well enough to know you'd lie through your teeth before putting your needs ahead of other folk's." Vanora carefully perched herself on the side of the bed, then took hold of his larger hand and gently laced their fingers together, before adding huskily, "I'm exactly where I'm meant to be ... with my family. 'N' at this moment ? You need me more- "

"But Bors nee- "

"But nothing, Dag. My man doesn't need me right now ... Ywain's with him. 'N' 'Rak. I'd only be in the way 'n' that's something they really _don't_ need. But you ? You've no one ... 'n' I hate the thought of you going through all this pain on your own. You need me, Dag 'n' ... I need to know Tris will be alright ... That you'll be alright. Because like you, I love that damn fool Aorsi 'n' like you, I don't want anything to happen to him ... So, don't you dare tell me to leave ... I want to be here, Dag ...It's something I need to do. To be with you both. 'N' before you say anything daft, Esyllt will come find me if that daft old lug needs me ..." She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Bors knows where I am ... that I'm with you. He'd want me here, seeing as he can't be here himself ..."

"Still- " Dagonet began to protest and eyed her uncertainly. Vanora raised an eyebrow and gave him her patented no-nonsense glare.

" 'Still' nothing. I'm staying 'n' that's the end of it," she paused and studied him carefully. "You eaten ?"

He slowly shook his head. "Couldn't face anything ..."

"_Dag ! _You can't just sit here like this. You need to eat, love ..." she said gently, dark eyes softening with concern and fond exasperation. " You have to keep your strength up. Bloody hell ! Tris needs you to be strong for him ... If you don't eat 'n' take care of yourself, that man of yours is going to run rings around you when he's finally up 'n' about ... 'n' y'know how hacked off he'll be if he finds out you've been neglecting yourself ... Tris loves you, Dag ... Worships the ground you walk on ... 'n' the last thing he'll want is for you to make yourself poorly 'n' sick with worry. "

"Van- "

"No, Dag. For once, you'll listen 'n' do as I say. I'm going back to the tavern to fetch you something to eat 'n' drink. I'm _not _letting you do this to yourself. Tris'd have my head on a lance if I did ..."

Dagonet shrugged helplessly. "The way Tris is right now, he'd be none the wiser ..."

Vanora snorted. "Oh, believe me, Dag, your Scout would know if you're not taking care of yourself, or if you're upset. He _always_ knows. Tris'd hate to see you fretting 'n' making yourself ill on his account ... Now, you stay exactly where you are 'n' I'll be back before you know it ... 'n' once you've eaten 'n' feeling up to it, you can tell me exactly what happened to our Tris ..." She bent down and lightly grazed Dag's forehead with her lips, before slipping out the door.

_**XXXXX**_

Returning shortly, Vanora dragged a chair next to the bed after she unloaded the food and full skin of her finest ale from the basket. She watched Dag half-heartedly pick at the mutton stew she'd brought him and sighed inwardly, only too aware that the strapping, cropped-haired Roxolani was merely humouring her. Watching the worried man absently tear a piece of bread to shreds, leaving nothing but a pile of crumbs before pushing the food laden tray away from himself in angry frustration, as well as seeing the helpless anguish in Dagonet's striking pale eyes, began to break Vanora's heart.

Shaking her head sadly, Vanora reached for the tray and placed it carefully on a small table near the bed. It wasn't the first time she was consumed by pain and anguish when Bors returned home after a vicious skirmish with the Woads and it definitely wouldn't be the last. And she knew her worry over Bors was mirrored in every fine line and tautly curved sinew of the gentle giant who silently kept vigil by his injured lover's bedside ... that both she and Dagonet shared exactly the same fear and pain for their loved ones. And although Dag was a master at hiding his true feelings, Vanora sensed the strapping Healer's increasing terror at the thought of losing the handsome Aorsi ... that the mercurial, enigmatic Scout, his beloved mate, could so easily be stolen from him ...

Cautiously, Vanora approached the grief-stricken Sarmatian and gently squeezed his shoulder in a gesture of pure comfort.

"Can you tell me what happened, Dag ?" she asked softly, keeping her eyes trained upon the lithe, unconscious man that she'd come to deeply care for and respect. Vanora felt a lump form in her throat and swallowed hard. Tears began to prick her eyes and she hastily squeezed her eyes shut in a vain hope that it would prevent them from falling. The last thing Dag needed now was her falling to pieces, especially when she had to be strong for both him and Tristan. "Please, Dag, what went wrong ?"

Dagonet closed his eyes and inhaled shakily before wearily rubbing his nape. "Even now I'm not sure how it happened ... It ... It just happened so quickly, yet it seemed to take forever ... One moment Tris is picking off those fucking blue bastards with his arrows, then the next thing I see is Storm rearing up ... Tris lying on the ground like a stuck pig, with a fucking arrow sticking out of his chest 'n' he's managed to crack his bloody thick, obstinate skull on a rock ..." He gave a sudden furious hiss and his eyes narrowed angrily. "D'ya want to know what really pissed me off, Van ? All the time my Scout lay on the ground as I pared that arrow shaft down so his wound wouldn't get worse if he was jolted 'n' Gawain kept us covered ... when your Bors was struck down 'n' 'Rak 'n' the others fought like hell to get him out of there ? Not once did that fucking Roman half-wit sound a bloody retreat to get us out of there ... We were all up to our fucking necks in fucking shit 'n' he did absolute bugger all to try 'n' get us out of the mire ..."

He slowly shook his head in disbelief. "He bloody knew the odds were against us ... that we were outnumbered ... Yet he did nothing. Absolute fuck all. Sod all, Van ... Ignored the yells from Gawain 'n' Galahad when the fresh onslaught of Woads hit … Until that godsdamned fucking Iazyges ... until _precious_ Lancelot was struck down. Then you can bet your arse it was a different bloody story ... that's when he started screaming for us to bloody pull back. It didn't matter that far better, far braver men had fallen earlier ... Oh, no ... The only thing that made that blind, ignorant fool see that we were being massacred was the sight of his pet lying in front of him. Dead. If that hadn't happened, more of us would've returned slung across our horses ..."

After what seemed like an age of tension filled silence, the Healer raised his head and met Vanora's soft, dark gaze head on. She flinched. In all the time she'd known Dagonet, she'd never seen him look so ... Vanora shook her head, shocked by the icy, murderous gleam in her kinsman's normally warm, compassionate silver eyes.

"I swear to you, Van," he snarled bitterly, "if anything happens to my Scout - if _he_ _dies_ - I won't be responsible for my actions ... Release papers or no, I'll be out for blood."

"Dag- "

Whatever Vanora had been about to say was interrupted by a faint groan from the bed. It was enough to distract the feisty barkeep and the tall Roxolani from continuing their discussion and turn their attention to the bed's occupant.

"Tris ?"

"Tris !"

Another soft, husky moan passed through the injured man's lips. Vanora gave a faint sigh of relief. Never had she felt so glad to hear such a slight, yet pain-filled sound. She moved closer to the head of the bed and gave the patient a tremulous smile that was full of warmth and affection. Tristan attempted to return it, but only managed a faint smirk before struggling to sit up. He gave a sudden gasp of pain and soon found Dagonet pressing him back gently towards the mattress.

"W-Wolf ? Van ? What the bloody fuck am I doing here ?" he rasped wearily, his striking golden eyes cloudy with pain and struggling to focus on his worried kin. He shifted and the slight movement made him wince. Grimacing in agony, he made another attempt to sit and again, was gently but firmly made to lie down on the bed by his concerned lover. "What the hell happened ?"

"Lie still, y'daft bugger. Try not to move too much. You'll burst your sutures, if you do." Dagonet reached out a trembling hand and gently swept a long, tangled lock of dark hair away from the younger knight's brow. Frowning, he inhaled deeply and bit his lip as he studied the dried gash which marred Tristan's right temple. He'd deliberately left it undressed, after staunching the blood & cleaning the wound carefully, wanting it to breathe naturally. The Healer cleared his throat and finally, his deep, rich voice asked quietly, "You don't remember, Tris ?"

The Scout slowly shook his head in denial. Anxious golden eyes steadily held Dagonet's clear, honest silver. Searching for answers ... Wanting, yet dreading to learn what the scarred Sarmatian Healer would tell him.

"Not everything, no ... I remember us all riding out ... The beginning of the skirmish ... You, Bors 'n' 'Rak in the thick of it ... 'n' Gawain as always, watching his Whelp's back ..." Tristan's eyes suddenly closed as he fought to recall anything else. He groaned in sheer frustration and shook his head as the memory eluded him. "Then ... Then a sudden, searing pain ... 'n' then nothing. Nothing but darkness ..."

Tristan briefly closed his tired, pain-filled eyes and muttered, "Gods ! I fucking ache all over ... I feel knackered ..."

He slowly reached out his right hand towards Dagonet and smiled faintly as the tall Roxolani gently took hold of it. The Healer gave it a reassuring squeeze before lightly and repeatedly stroking the back of the younger man's hand with the ball of his thumb.

Dagonet's pale eyes were clearly relieved yet surveyed his lover carefully for any signs of distress or discomfort. He swallowed hard and finally rasped, "You look like hell, Tris ... Honestly thought I'd lost you for good this time 'n' that scared the shit out of me. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you ... it'd kill me- "

"Hey !" the Aorsi managed a faint smirk and flipped his hand over to lace his fingers between the gentle giant's, returning the gesture of comfort. "Don't think you're getting rid of me that easily, you daft sod ... I'm going nowhere. Takes more than a Woad arrow to kill me off, Wolf ... You should know that by now ..."

Vanora silently watched the interaction between both men, acutely aware of the deep respect, attraction and intense love between them. Feeling as if she were intruding upon a very intimate moment, she hastily decided to give them some privacy. Bending down she lightly brushed the Aorsi's forehead with her lips, before stepping back to smile at him fondly.

"Dag wasn't the only one you almost scared to death today, Tris ... I've already lost family to those fucking Woad bastards, there's no way I'm losing another to them. Couldn't bear it if something happened to you too ... You're family, y'daft git 'n' I love you." Vanora paused, her dark gaze flickering briefly to the strapping Healer, instantly aware of how pale and weary he looked. "You're both exhausted 'n' I can see you're in good hands here, Tristan, so I'll take my leave ..."

Smiling softly, Vanora bent down once more to lightly kiss the wounded knight's brow. " 'Tis good to see you back in the land of the living, Scout ... Get some rest 'n' I'll come by in the morning to see you ..."

And with that final remark, she gave Dagonet's right shoulder a fleeting, affectionate squeeze. She quietly left the room, allowing her relieved kinsman some time alone with his beloved Scout.

**FINIS**


End file.
